


Bang

by rispacooper



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comment Fic, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fisting, Humor, M/M, Pillow Talk, Porn, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rispacooper/pseuds/rispacooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake's mouth sometimes (but not all the time) gets him in trouble. Sort of fluffy mush, if you squint. Mostly smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bang

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Multi-Fandom Fisting Meme](http://coffeebuddha.livejournal.com/135509.html)

He can’t move, or, he can, but he _can’t_. He won’t. His legs are jelly and there’s a serious burn in his ass, along with the hollow stretch that meant no more cock. Sweat and lube were itchy and damp between his thighs, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment.

When he can get his head off the pillow, he will worry about that like he’ll worry about the silence from across the room, or the empty space on this cheap, seriously questionable motel bed that had been full of a panting Cougar a second ago.

Maybe his mouth got a little out of control at times, Jake thought defensively, but he still felt too weak and nicely fucked out to turn his head and his arguments were still formulating.

He might also be a teeny tiny bit afraid to look at Cougar, but that was between him and the pillow.

It wouldn’t be the first time his mouth had gotten him into trouble, but it was possibly the scariest.

“I can’t help it,” he whined into the cheap pillowcase, breathing loud. “You can’t hold people responsible for what they say when they’re getting fucked, man. It’s like a rule. You can’t take whatever I’m saying seriously if I’m saying it while your cock is in my ass.”

The dip of the mattress made him shut up, for like, half of one fast, panicky heartbeat. There was no answer, not that he really expected one, but he gulped down some air and slid a hand over the slick bed cover thing, only to stop at the hand pressing flat into the small of his back. Cougar shoved him down before he could even try to get up.

“Okay, man,” Jake muttered hurriedly, shutting his eyes and thinking over the last thirty minutes or so and hoping he hadn’t screwed up too badly.

“You know, the bonobo apes are bisexual and slutty to boot and…” he tried and then the words just stuttered out of him, stopped, and his breath too, only to sneak back in when he sucked in a long, long, pained, perfect breath.

Cougar’s fingers, hot, slippery, traced the rim of his asshole—the hole he’d just finished pounding. Jake was fairly certain that his toes actually curled. He shuddered at the same time, because it hurt and because it felt fucking great, like slow breath over a sunburn or lime and salt in a split lip or chocolate-dipped chili peppers, and fuck,

“ _Fuck_ , man! Are you mad? I took it back—oh _fuck_.” Cougar’s fingers, two, pushed into him, past loose muscle but Jake’s body clenched anyway, wanting those fingers inside like a greedy little bitch.

And the fact that he thought of his asshole as a greedy little bitch wasn’t was disturbing as it probably should have been. He blamed Cougar.

He must have lubed up again, the sneaky, stealthy, sexy son of a bitch.

Jake had been fucked out a minute ago, still was, but things were _stirring_. Throbbing. _Stiffening_. Shit. He wriggled. He loved his dick and what Cougar did to it only an infinitesimal fraction more than he—

 _There_. He burned and ached all over again, only there still wasn’t a fat cock to make it better, just two—wait, fuck, _three_ —fingers.

He slid his hands over the about-to-get-more-semen-stained-bed cover and tried to breathe as it occurred to him that he wasn’t questioning what was happening and maybe he ought to, but Cougar’s three—fuck—fingers were moving slowly in and out, stretching him open and without ever once hitting his prostrate, so he could kind of guess.

Still, uncharted territory here. The final frontier. Where no man had gone before. He ought to do more than hitch his breath and spread his legs wider.

He clutched at the bedding and licked his lips.

“Some people claim when two male giraffes get it on they, fuck, Coug please God yes, that it’s just asserting the social hierarchy, you know, _dominance_.”

It did something to his insides, that word, more than the hot knot building at the base of his spine, more than the tightening of his balls, even more than the kicking of his heart. Well, almost.

Cougar’s breath was a ghost over his back. His other hand went down over Jake’s hip. Jake pushed his ass up without hesitating.

“But others say it’s friendship, creating social bonds. _I_ think it’s because they can hardly go for blowies—though imagine that. Redefines deep throat, huh?”

Cougar didn’t touch Jake’s dick any more than he was stroking Jake’s sweet spot. Jake would have whined, but he had other things to notice, like how the continuing silence was only broken by the pop of the cap on the lube bottle.

He tensed, just for a second, then exhaled when those three fingers withdrew.

He couldn’t say how he knew it was coming, except that a growl escaped Cougar and then it was just, ohholyyesjesusfuck, _four_ , four fingers with the thumb tucked away as though that made a difference in how he was getting split in two—except for how it did, and it was _awesome_.

It felt…it felt like…no way, nuh uh, are you fucking crazy that isn’t going to work and stretch and right and oh he’d fit, he’d fit Cougar anywhere, and he gasped, frozen except for the shivers under Cougar’s other hand that kept on smoothing over his hip, down his back.

“Black swans mate for life.” It just slipped out, fell out really, when Jake could talk again, rough and dry through his tight jaw. He couldn’t stop his hands, his toes, curling, pushing, and Cougar did it, slowly slid in and filled him. It was stretching and pressure, heat and sweat and a not-all-the-way-there-please-go-deeper-go-deeper itch to drive him fucking insane and Jake wanted that shit like _burning_. He said something to let Cougar know that and then there was petting, petting, lube oily on Cougar’s fingers, lube everywhere, easy and right. Cougar treated him so well, like a gun; it was the least Jake could do to let himself be used properly.

Again he thought this was something that ought to worry him. Weird that it didn’t.

He cocked his fingers into the bedcover and thought, _Bang!_ as he sighed and let go.

Cougar’s hand pushed in past his thumb to his wrist, just like that, and then stopped.

Jake’s legs were shaking.

“They call it pair bonding,” he murmured, his chest heaving as he absorbed sensation, raw and good, weird and awesome. Cougar was panting again, over him, growling. Or possibly purring. Like he was a pleased kitty.

“Yeah baby.” Austin Powers. That was embarrassing, but the stretch felt more natural now, not that he felt any less like he had a fist in his ass. He shifted and wet his mouth, though Coug couldn’t see the sexy gesture for what it was. He was all slicked up here, waiting, his head spinning, his vision more than a little blurry, and his spine lit up with the need to come. “Penguins too.” He couldn’t stop himself. “And regular swans of course. Sheep. Speaking of, you know you can ram me any time n—Fuck!”

He was strung tight, dying, going to heaven and dying and at least while he was having his out-of-body-experience and heading toward that white light, he could perv out on the picture they made and see what he looked like with Cougar wrist-deep up his ass, fucking him with that wet, clenched, solid hand.

“Cougar.” He was shivering but he couldn’t move. Knuckles. There were _knuckles_ , and _motion_ , and it was big, or felt like it, and it was everywhere. “Shit yeah, hit it, bitch.”

Cougar did, without even a comment about his language.

This fucking rocked. Jake couldn’t take it felt so good—for all of a second. Then he pushed back for more. “Cougar.” He bit his lips, groaned. “Fucking ride it, Cougar, just like…”

He moaned, moving with it with his head down but his mouth off the pillow so Cougar could hear. “Fuck yeah, fuck yeah, this, this here,” he tried to get his legs open wider, push back further, take it all, “this here is called presenting.” He thrust back, ass up, and licked at his lips, at the pillow. Cougar’s fingers dug into his hip, leaving marks for sure, but it wasn’t going to hold Jake still, not now.

He wondered how he looked, seriously. They should record this for posterity. Because he was certain that he looked hot as fuck, like irresistible, like something nobody would ever leave over some silly words, not even a solitary stalk and ambush predator.

He shook his head and fought the need to collapse and beg for more because if he collapsed he couldn’t push back and get Cougar to hit that sweet spot so hard and fast and perfect. Every bumpy slide against gave him a new burst of heat, electricity, digital signals for the modern world and the specs to the Flux Capacitor and the words, man, there was no stopping the words.

“Fuck, Cougar, it’s not, it’s not, this isn’t, please, please, that’s it, that’s fucking it. God. I’m not, I’m not an ape—well I _am_ an ape, but—ohJesusfuck—please, not like… _Cougar_. I need…come on, man.”

He swallowed, but he was dry, scratched up, living for that fucking fist, for Cougar, and everything was spiking higher, higher.

“I can’t help it, Cougar, I’m a swan. I’m a gay black swan, don’t—Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , don’t eat me. Or do. I don’t know. I…” It was faster now, he couldn’t… “ _Cougar_. I can’t…” He was flying, taking it as he was given it, and he threw his head up as Cougar shifted, arched hot over him and then dragged a touch over that sensitive little clump of nerves he’d been pounding all afternoon and Jake couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and it was good, so good, and, and…

“Fuck I love you, Cougar.” It tore from him as he came and hurt—release, coming, bolding declaring the feelings previously locked up in his chest somewhere around his heart—all of it.

He kept his eyes shut, his head down, though his body was trembling and he could barely stay up. When Cougar slowly, _fuck_ , man, so slowly, pulled his hand out of him, he clenched his jaw only to swear anyway.

Cougar’s other hand was still moving, running down his back, along his spine to his legs, then his hips. It took Jake a moment to realize Cougar was helping him lie back down, calming him, like he really was a scared bird.

He wondered if Cougar was hard again, but couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to, and he didn’t want to, not yet. Not even to get out of the wet spot.

“Okay.” He gave in and admitted it. “It’s not just when your cock is in my ass.” He coughed. “It’s all the time. Sorry.”

He stopped when he felt lips, gentle, at the small of his back, then again against his neck.

“Huh.” So he didn’t think his clearest when being fucked, sue him. He opened his eyes and laid his head to the side.

“Don’t worry. Many social animal groups have pair bondings. I won’t tell anyone you’re a swan deep down.” For another moment neither of them moved, then Cougar bent back down and pressed a light, butterfly kiss to his sensitive, twitching, well-loved asshole.

“Aw, man. Just, aw. You love me and my big mouth.” Jake dropped his head to the pillow and sighed. He wasn’t moving for a long time, but apparently, neither was Cougar. Well except to get up and get something to clean him up because Cougar wasn’t the sort of gay swan to leave his gun like this without cleaning it.

That image might not exactly make sense, but that was the least of the things on Jake’s mind at the moment. He’d just been fucked senseless twice by the man he loved. Making sense was someone else’s problem.

The End


End file.
